Repetition in the Mother of Annoyance
by sholto
Summary: Lot's of things change in eleven years, Draco. Maybe I want to be left alone. Yeah, well read my lips Potter, I. Don't, Care.
1. Chapter 1: Running

_A/N: Alright let's get this started. This is my first story that will be multi-chaptered so bear with me (Jay, I heard that and it was very unkind), I'll do my best to do this properly ya'll can mind your manners okay? Xale do the disclaimer._

_Xale:"She owns nothing and knows nothing about any attempts by her representatives to acquirer Harry Potter for her. Happy?"_

_Not really but we'll talk later. To the rest of you, Enjoy!_

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**Repetition is the Mother of Annoyance**

**Prologue- ****Running**

That's it. He0 was finished. It just wasn't worth it. His parents, Cedric, Broderick, Dumbledore and now Ron and Hermione- who if not for their belief in him would be populating the world with little- red headed children with uncertain tempers and lots of intelligence- were dead.

A small voice in the back of his head said, 'At least they didn't die in vain.' Harry's twisted into a bitter smile. No they hadn't died in vain. Voldemort was dead and during the past few weeks he often caught himself wishing that he could bring the man back and give him a much longer and more painful death. One that wouldn't end until the madman realized the enormous cost that had been demanded on his insane quest for immortality. But... Harry always pushed those thoughts out of his mind; no matter how long he lingered on them because he knew that no matter how appealing the idea appealed to him they weren't ever going to happen. He refused to cheapen the sacrifices of his loved ones by acting in the same manner as those they had fought against.

He shook the wet out of his hair and wiped his glasses in a futile effort to improve his vision, it failed miserably as the rain re-soaked and speckled him within seconds. He was standing under a large ancient oak before the two headstones that had been raised only a few hours earlier to his two best friends. The rest of the mourners had disappeared, even the officiating priest had retreated to his small home on the edge of the graveyard grounds, respectfully leaving him alone with his grief.

He was grateful for that. The privacy that only a month ago he would have been hard pressed to get was now given to him with out a second thought, Harry had never hated silence so much. In the silence of his reclusive wanderings around his godfathers' ancestral home Harry found himself remembering the deathly silence that had reigned when Ron and Hermione had died, the terrible silence that Voldemort had maintained even in his death throes and all the other times in his life when silence had reigned supreme. He had found himself eventually reliving all the events in his life that had lead to him becoming a recluse at seventeen with all those close to him dead. It seemed fitting to him that after nearly a week of remembering the things that had happened to him, most especially those beginning with his entrance into the wizarding world, that he would put an end to that part of life with the two people that had truly made the wizarding world home for him.

Harry looked at the two grave-stones, watched as the rain trickled down the simple white marble slabs- engraved only with their names and dates, a rampaging lion their only decoration. He idly wondered how long it would take for the elements to wear those sharply defined symbols away. Hopefully never; he didn't want them forgotten, unlike himself whom he wanted be forgotten as soon as possible. The first steps towards that plan would be set into motion within a few hours but first he had to say goodbye. The dark- haired teen swallowed dryly a few times before he was able to speak.

"R-ron, Hermione, hell this feels weird, I guess if you guys can hear me- where ever you are- I just wanted to say thanks for so many things. For being my friends, for believing in me when I really needed you to, for everything really but most especially for stay with me. And I just wanted to say I'm sorry, for everything I didn't and should have done." He stopped for a second to clear his throat and wipe the tears that were unnoticeable in the downpour. "And I guess I just wanted to say goodbye."  
Harry looked down at the soaked ground for several more seconds before looking up and around before looking down at his wristwatch, after noting the time he silently turned and made his way from the graves and out of the burial grounds pulling the hood of his cloak over his head as he went. Finally he came to the road picked up the two small but thickly wrapped bundles he had placed there in the shelter of a sprawling root system and with a loud crack disappeared.

The rain which had been coming down in a continuous torrent of celestial weeping, slowed then stopped as a soft breeze sighed through the branches of the oak setting the leaves to whispering. As the small wind died off so too did the noise of the leaves leaving the place where dozens of generations of Weasley's had come to be laid to rest silent.

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According to witnesses at about a minute past midnight on July 31, Number 12 Grimmuld Place, went up in flames spontaneously and instantly. No warning flicker or concussion to alert anyone, just a sudden sprouting of flames that burned furiously for a little over five minutes despite the Ministry of Magic's best efforts to put them out. The flames never made any attempt to spread to the neighboring homes despite how close they were, they simply sprouted, raged for several minutes and then died out, just as suddenly as they appeared. It was later confirmed that the single casualty was a male positively identified as one Harry James Potter. 


	2. Chapter 2: Found

A/N: I'm baaack! Are you shocked? Anyway here's my next installment. I hope you all like it.

Xale: Please, no one likes it, and you are clearly delusional to even post this.

Shut up and do the disclaimer or I'll tell mom

Xale: Theesh, She doesn't own a thing, somedays she doesn't herself.

...Moving on, Enjoy!

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"You 'bout ready to close up?"

The dark- haired man to whom the question was directed looked up from the book he was reading, with an air of distraction about him that was enforced by his glazed eyes.

"No, you go ahead and leave Steve. It's my turn to lock up anyway."

The called Steve smiled, "Well if you're sure Josh, then I'm gonna head out now. Don't stay too late; you know how much Cora hates that."

Josh gave and absent wave from where he had redirected his attention back to the book before him, "Don't worry I won't. I'll be gone just as soon as I finish this section."

"Alright then I'll see you tomorrow," and with that parting comment he went out the door which slammed shut behind him.

The dark- haired man didn't even notice so involved was he in the book before him. It was large and obviously old, and as he turned the thin, worn, yellow parchment pages, they rustled in the dead silence of the room. The man hovered over the book for several hours more and would have happily stayed there longer if, from outside the shop, hand not the sound of a car violently backfiring interrupted. The owner of the cars loud and heartfelt swearing indicated he was not pleased in least with this occurrence. The dark- haired man inside the shop, on the other hand had roused from his reading material obviously disorientated. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head slowly from side to side as the swearing man outside apparently found someway to restart his vehicle because he had fallen silent, the sound of his profanities replaced by the sound of a disgruntled car restarting and making its way to the drivers' destination.

Josh, still bleary eyed from his extending reading spree, shut the book he had been reading after inserting an embroidered scrap of cloth in it to mark his place. He rose from the cramped chair he had been in, his movements stiff and began to walk around the space shifting piles of books out of the way and turning off the various lights that were still blazing. Before turning off the final light he picked up and put on a light jacket, an item that was needed despite it being the middle of summer because even in the midst of summer what was popularly called the dog days of summer, Buffalo, New York's weather tended to ignore conventional logic and do what it wished.

He turned off the last light, exited the shop and took care to lock the door securely behind him. He then adjusted his collar and began to walk. He went three to four blocks that were lined with decent sized houses, most of which were one family although there were a few here there that were for two families. Either way, Josh was essentially walking through your average middle class neighborhood and being quick about it. Finally he reached and turned down a side- street. He walked past perhaps a dozen or so houses all of which had for the most part neatly clipped lawns and several of which had some odd little pink, plastic flamingos stuck in the turf. He skirted the edges of those lawns, still not quite trusting the flamboyant birds after nearly eleven years of living near them.

The dark haired young man turned up a walkway that led to a discreet two story brick house. He was fumbling in his pocket for the keys when an elderly woman moved out of shadows on the porch from where she had sitting on a small bench. His head snapped around at the first the sign of movement when he saw who is was his tense pose relaxed and small smile took over his face.

"Meg, you're still here?"

The woman, who was a great deal shorter than Josh who barely cleared 5'6 himself, chuckled as she peered up at him through bottle-cap bifocal lens, "Well of course I am. You didn't expect me to just leave those two alone in there did you? And at this time of night," She tisked at him, "For shame."

He laughed, "I suppose I should have known. Thank you though; I truly don't know what I'd do without you." He started to reach into the inner pocket of his jacket.

"Joshua Black, if you pull any money out, I will be most peeved with you." Meg's tone was ominous, but he just smiled and pulled out what he had started to reach for, revealing a medium soft-covered book from the confines of his outer-wear.

"No need for that ma'am. I came prepared this time," He presented the book to her with a flourish, "First edition Agatha Christie, Cards on the Table, for the lady."

The woman took the book with a amused chuckle gently caressing the cover with loving hands before smiling up at young man, "This is completely unnecessary, and completely loved, thank you." She reached up pulling him down to plant a soft dry kiss on his check. Still chuckling she patted his check and moved around him and down the stairs, Josh smiling after her, knowing that she was on her way home were she would no doubt stay up to an obscene hour of the night slowly savoring her new book. The woman was very probably certified but he loved dearly, completely unsure as to exactly what would have become of him had she not befriended him when he first came to the mostly quiet neighborhood.

It wasn't until after he had seen her disappear into her home, just a bit across and down the street that Josh turned back to his own door. Pushing the door open he smiled at simple familiarity of the entrench way, a discreet nightlight shed illumination in the area- just enough that one could make out the stairs that lead to the second floor and the almost rickety end table just to the right of the large armoire that he used as a combination coat and umbrella rack, shoe storage space and linen closet. On the little table was a squat pile of mail, a misappropriate proportion of which was no doubt bills, despite this unpleasant knowledge he still picked up the envelopes, as he hung his jacket up.

Walking a path he had long since memorized, he wound his way through the completely dark house to the back most room where he flicked a wall switch bathing the room in light to reveal a decent sized kitchen. He paused to allow his eyes to adjust to the sudden brilliance before moving further into the room. He dumped the mail unopened on the large circular table in the middle of the room, abandoning the task of sorting through it in favor of rooting through the refrigerator in search of food. After a few seconds of furious rummaging he came out with a bowl of some type of soup which he uncovered, discarding the plastic-wrap on it in the nearby trash bin before going to sit at the table, stopping to open a drawer and retrieve a spoon as he headed back. He nudged the mail, which he had previously discarded there over to make room for his cool dinner. Pulling the bowl close, his fingers wrapped protectively around the dish he bent his head over it as though in prayer. He whispered softly over it and when he looked back up his glasses were fogged from the stream coming off the suddenly hot soup. With a small smile he spooned up some of the hot semi- liquid, blew on the spoonful to cool it and ate it.

He gave a soft hum of pleasure as his smile grew a bit. Pleased with the taste he turned to the pile of mail. Picking up the first he took one look at the mailing address and tossed it to the side with a mumbled "damn junk mail..." the next three pieces followed the first, even as he continued to spoon up his food. He stopped at the fifth envelope looking at the sender and grimacing. For a moment he struggled with whether to open it before sighing in resignation and ripping the flap open. Josh jerked the single sheet of paper out, unfolded it and scanned the lighting bill. Lips thinned he tossed it to the side in a pile separate from the junk mail. Two more bills proceeded to join their brethren as the dark- haired man continued to sort his mail.

He stopped at one letter with no return address and his curiosity peaked, dropped his spoon into the bowl of spoon with a soft plunk and clink as the metal fell back into the liquid and the handle made contact with the edge of the ceramic dish. Quickly ripping the envelope open he looked inside and then, frowning turned it upside down over the table. A silver ring fell out onto the table with the sharp metallic ring of real ore, he paled and picked it up. It was relatively simple, just a heavy band of silver set with a single gem- a solitary cut emerald engraved with fine lines that formed the image of a dragon swallowing a human. Clutching at it, his convulsively clutched his left hand on the table, he could only find room in his mind for one repetitive thought, "_He found us, oh sweet fucking Merlin on a corner he found us." _He didn't know how long he sat there with that thought passing through his mind but eventually, five minutes later or five hours- he didn't know or care, a second though occurred to him and it sent him bolting from his seat, still clutching the ring running through his house until he came to the stairs that lead to the upper level. Josh ran up the steps two at a time and immediately made for the farthest back door on the right. Bursting into the room he stopped dead in his tracks at what awaited him there.

The room was of a decent size to fit both of its inhabitants and decorated much like any room belonging to two ten year old males would be. Clothes- some clean most dirty- littered the floor, and on the walls were posters of their various current idols- ranging from athletes to musicians. None of that interested him. It was the two beds that keep his attention. As he walked closer he felt a sick feeling of dread wash over him. True there was no unordained presence in the room but he also couldn't hear the sounds that he was used to hearing at this time of night. Tugging back the covers of the left most bed he was relived to find by the light pouring through the window, that his son was indeed still in the bed. Sirius Godric Black lay sprawled on his bed, head buried into his pillow so completely he looked to be in danger of smothering.

With a soft sigh he turned to the other bed no longer truly worried but determined to be sure. After carefully shifting around the billion and one pillows that the beds' inhabitant insisted on having in a nest like configuration around himself, he revealed his other son, James Salazar Black. The boy way lying with his head towards the bottom of the bed, but looking at him, his father wasn't particularly alarmed. James for some reason always spun himself in an entire circle while asleep. He would be right side up by morning with no adverse affects.

After carefully covering both back up he left the room closing the door firmly behind himself. And then still clutching that trice cursed ring he put his back to the door and slid down, dry sobs and heaves racking his body as he came face to face with the ugly truth that he had been found. His nearly eleven years of obscurity had come to an end and he wasn't sure, quite frankly if his mind could handle the full implications of what that meant. He sat there for several minutes giving the new knowledge time to sink in. He had learned a lot in the past few years about patience and about thinking before he acted, it had been forced on him really since having two little boys who were raucous enough on their own didn't exactly lend to rash thinking and poor planning. So he sat there with his back against the door of the centers of his universe and when he was sure that he was in complete control of himself he stood up went back down the stairs to finish his still slightly warm dinner.

Harry Potter sat down and began to spoon up soup, his face calm and composed. And he began to plan.

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Done and done! Woot!

Um, I don't want to sound beg-y but a few reviews might be nice if only to get some feedback so I can make sure I haven't made any slip-ups or goofs. Please? I have pie.

Xale: Don't eat that, she cooked it and she can't cook.

Shut up, This is the one our neighbor made, you ate the one I made.

Xale: ...Excuse me while I go die.

Good riddance! See the rest of you soon I hope.


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